1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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